


Male Reader X Female Solid Snake

by CampGreen



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: F/M, Literature, Romance, fan fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-16
Updated: 2017-07-16
Packaged: 2018-12-04 06:32:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11549484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CampGreen/pseuds/CampGreen
Summary: My very first story not bastardizing a horror franchise, but an action one. Metal Gear Solid is developed by Konami and Hideo Kojima.





	1. Guard Duty

The Next-Generation Special Forces. A black ops division that combats terrorism alongside the legendary FOXHOUND unit, a band of war heroes you looked up to as a kid, whom you aspired to be like since you were seven. You couldn't believe you were called in as a replacement soldier for them right after getting out of boot camp. Now your colleagues are either genetically enhanced superhumans, or the elite badasses behind the Outer Heaven Uprising and the Zanzibar Land Disturbance. And what have you been tasked with, first week as a Space SEAL? Guard duty. You're stuck in the middle of a blizzardy wasteland in the bowels of Alaska, left to freeze from the bitter wind and snowfall as it violently swirls around Shadow Moses Island. Even the white winter gear you and your fellow guards have been outfitted with hardly helps. You're still shivering atop one of the watchtowers like a kid who just got traumatized by their first horror movie. Your thick breath hangs in the air every time you exhale. You peer down upon the snow-covered heliport as your colleagues skitter about it like ants. 

You watch as the boss takes off in her Hind-D, not sure why, maybe to survey the area? If there's one upside to this job, it's being able to watch your boss walk around Shadow Moses completely topless, never once mentioning the fact that her breasts are on full display for her whole staff to see. And it's far below freezing out here! The woman is an amazon. Someone to look up to, follow, and lust after. The picture of her beautiful face, perfectly chiseled body, and no-nonsense attitude warms you with the thought of her keeping your dick nice and cozy with the envelope of her mouth. Possessed by a volatile libido, you unzip your cargo pants and fish out your hardening cock from in between the zipper, firmly wrapping your fingers around your shaft before clenching your eyes shut and pumping back and forth. Your gloved grasp protects your penis from the cold and pleasures it to the thought of your boss, Liquid Snake. Her flowing mane of bleached hair draping to her shoulders, her haughty, snide British accent and mannerisms that assert her authority over you like a dominatrix, and those perfect breasts not quite hidden behind her open trenchcoat and that jiggle around with every step she takes through your workplace. Everything about her drives you insane. Your wild imagination and equally wild sex drive explode throughout your bloodstream like fireworks, and your toes curl in your boots right as you feel a torrent of cum rush up your shaft.

_"(Y/N)."_

_"GAH, WHAT!"_ you shoot up out of chair, back thankfully to the voice of whoever's behind you so they don't realize you're busting a nut before their very eyes. 

The largest, longest cumshot of your life comes firing out of your hole and onto the floor of the guard tower. The damned thing lasts for a good thirty seconds, almost crippling you in a terrible, terrible mixture of pleasure and embarrassment as one of your fellow soldiers watches from behind in confusion and blissful ignorance.

 _"Whoa, didn't mean to startle you,"_ the feminine voice says as you recognize it as one of your commanding officers. _"You've been out here for a good hour, right?"_

 _"Ye **EE** s, ma'am!"_ you squeal, trying to come off as casual but failing as the heavenly sensations throttling your penis keep drawing up and down in frequency. 

_"Uh, alright. I just came up here to tell you that your outside shift is up, back to the tank hanger for the rest of the day...why won't you face me, soldier?"_

_"Uu **UH** , I **UH** , I'm taking a-a-a,"_ you let out in a shrill voice as your balls are emptied out onto the metal flooring.

_"Aw, Jesus Christ, in the tower? You couldn't have taken a piss out in the snow? Whatever, it'll freeze in a few minutes anyways. Just get down to the hanger ASAP, (Y/N)."_

_"You got it, ma' **AM**!"_

Right as she departs, your dick stops spasming, of course. A huge puddle of cum pools around the tips of your feet, and you can barely stand. You let out a sigh of humiliation as you stuff your soft dick back into your pants and stumble out of the tower, FAMAS in hand. You slip your boots back on as you finish up changing into the inside clothes, consisting of a less heavy, olive-colored variant of your outside clothes. For a short second, you get a whiff of smoke, no mistake about it, coming from the vents, but pay no mind to it. Probably just a small maintenance error. You exit the locker room and get your gun at the ready as you begin your patrol of the facility's insides. Nuclear warheads, stacks of wooden crates, and old military vehicles are all stored around you like one big warehouse. It seemed cool at first but being stuck for several days within the colorless, clinical halls of the compound is an ache to your eyes. It's soul-suckingly boring, like an office complex. You're in the Genome Army for God's sake, why does this feel like a fucking desk job? The drab atmosphere coupled with the ridiculously large climax you had a few minutes prior makes your eyes heavy. Right as you feel like you're about to pass out in the middle of your shift, you see one of the boxes sprout...legs? You drop your rifle and rub your eyes clear. You're sleepy but not so sleepy as you have such a vivid hallucination, right? You snatch your FAMAS from back up off the ground and investigate. The hallucination came from a large mound of cardboard boxes. Maybe your eyes caught a glimpse of a box and a glimpse of one of your peers stomping about and blended the two together in a haze of tiredness. You turn back around and suddenly something seizes your neck, making you gasp. You're yanked back into one of the shadowy corners of the storage-cluttered room and the tip of a combat knife is aimed a few millimeters away from your throat whilst a cloud of nasty smoke strays over your face and strains your lungs. 


	2. Intruder

_"Scream and you'll be choking on your own blood,"_ a deadpan albeit certainly female voice, apparently deepened by years of smoking, growls from behind you. Someone's got you in a choke-hold, and could slit your throat if you so as much flinch. _"Now, I'm only gonna ask you once. Where are you holding the DARPA Chief?"_ she interrogates as the blood-choke tightens, making you wheeze for air.

_"T-Th-The DARPA chief?"_ you pitifully, breathlessly stamper out like a socially awkward toddler forced to give a speech, feeling just as terrified and shaky. You vaguely remember whispers around the staff about a chief, dragged off somewhere within the belly of Shadow Moses. If anything, you had heard he was dead. _"I-I-"_

_"If you stutter one more time, I'm gonna get impatient and move onto the next guard. Now answer my fucking question,"_ she snarls as the grip gets even tighter, making you squeal like a hot kettle.

_"First floor basement!"_ your mind remembers at the very last second. _"There's a prison area! We threw him in one of the cells there!"_

_"That's a good boy."_

She sheathes her knife and wraps her other meaty arm around your mouth, before she strangles the blood-flow from your brain to the rest of your body with one mighty, cobra-like squeeze. You scream from under the two forearms, but they act as a gag as consciousness is crushed out of your body. Right before you pass out from the lack of oxygen, you hear muffled yelling coming from outside the cage of combat fatigues encasing your head. Finally you're released from the ensnarement, and you fall to your hands and knees, panting profusely. 

_**"!"** _

Two of your fellow guards have their rifles aimed behind you, straight at the intruder who nearly choked you out. You stumble to your feet and the sole of a boot punches you in the center of your back, sending you flying forward into your colleagues like a bowling ball. All three of you are dazed by the collision, and suddenly you find yourself staring down the barrel of a SOCOM. You duck right as she pulls the trigger, narrowly missing a gunshot that deafens you and instead rips through the brains of the poor bastard who was behind you. The other Genome soldier takes aim with their FAMAS and unleashes a flurry of gunfire upon the cramp supply room, and you hit the deck before a stray can hit you. You watch in awe as the intruder dodges every last bullet with a series of rolls, ducks, and wall kicks. She's a black and navy blur faster than automatic fire, getting closer and closer to the two of you as if trying to attack only reels her in closer. Two devastating fists fly into your face and would've sent blood painting the floor if you weren't wearing a balaclava, and a knee-pad flies into your stomach and puts you down for the count while almost ripping your lunch out from your stomach. She sidesteps another gunshot from the Genome Soldier's FAMAS and grabs it by the barrel to swipe it out of their hands. With one precise motion, she dismantles the firearm like a toy and lets the dismembered thing's body parts drop to the floor and clatter by your side. She strikes the guard in the throat and body slams them to the ground with the elegance of a black belt. A glove seizes your crotch with an iron grip, and another seizes your throat. She hoists you in the air as if she's about to break your back over her knee, but she instead smashes you down upon your peer as they writhe on the floor, wholly incapacitating the both of you. 

Another ear-splitting gunshot explodes throughout the hanger and another coworker with their brains blown out is at your shoulder as you lay on the ground. Overwhelming sensations of fear paralyze your body as you lay wounded in the looming shadow of the intruder. Suddenly searing pain shoots into your balls as the bottom of a boot stomps onto your groin, squeezing a yelp out of your throat. The ridges of the sole mercilessly grind your testicles through your zipper, and again your eyes are trained on a SOCOM's insides through its black bore. This is the very first time you get a good view of the intruder, as previously she had just been a dark blur ripping you and your men to shreds. It's...the boss?! Obviously not, but that stoic, divine face, that Herculean build under a full-body set of navy/black lightweight combat armor, that scruffy mane of shoulder-length hair (though the boss is a blonde while this woman is a brunette). It's a splitting image of her, like her twin sister. But when you see that trademark bandana coursing through that messy, boyish brown hair alongside an eyepatch censoring her left eye and a lit cigarette hanging out from between her lips, it all clicks. The intruder, the woman whose about to turn your balls to a fine powder, is none other than the legendary Solid Snake. The woman who you looked up to as a child, the woman who every kid in the 90's looked up to, the ex-FOXHOUND commando behind the incidents of Outer Heaven and Zanzibar Land. Now it almost feels like an honor you're about to get your skull pulverized with the squeeze of a trigger, or your testes pulverized with a press of the ankle. Your one-sided standoff is interrupted by a set of distant rapid marching - reinforcements.

_"Stay out of the army, kid,"_ her husky voice drones out as her wrist jerks down and a bullet blasts in between your ribs. 

You gasp, but don't scream, the shock numbing you too harshly. A puddle of your own blood forms beneath you from your mangled side, and the towering shade that is Snake zips out of sight right as everything devolves to nothing but blackness. Your vision slowly fades back into the interior of a patient room, in the medical wing of the facility. You're in a patient bed, uniform replaced with nothing but a hospital gown. Your commanding officer from before sits at your side and notices your awakening.

_"Good, you're up. How do you feel?"_

You groan out in fatigue. _"Ugh...f-fine..."_

_"That's the painkillers. Listen, as I'm sure you're well aware of by now, a hostile infiltrated the base and she's still at large. She killed two of our own and you're lucky you weren't added to the body count. The doc fixed you up real good and we need as many men as we can scouring the base so the second you can, get geared up and continue your patrol. Your might feel some soreness after the morphine wears off but that swathe of gauze around your torso should keep you in a good enough condition to fight. We can't let this bitch interfere with the boss's plans, understand?"_

_"Y-Yes, ma'am..."_

_"Alright, get well soon. And when I say get well soon, I mean get your ass back to guard duty as soon as possible."_ She leaves you alone in the room to rest. 

Fearing of disappointing her, you quickly get out of bed and get suited back up in your olive fatigues. You load your FAMAS and continue your tedious exploration of the facility with a squad of Genome Soldiers, scanning every nook and cranny the base's layout has to offer in an attempt to sniff out Solid Snake. It's all in vain, however, as you've known before you even started searching. You've heard all about her for a solid decade. Snake is the greatest soldier on the face of planet, the most unstoppable killing machine the US has ever birthed. You might be the Genome Army, but if Big Boss and her two military nations couldn't stop Snake in her youth, you sure as hell couldn't stop Snake in her prime. Your vividly lustful fantasies of Liquid shift to her twin and focus on the few seconds you saw her in her full glory, grinding your manhood to dust from beneath her foot. She felt like a sadistic goddess, mockingly demonstrating that you're nothing but a pitiful worm who could never lay a finger on her. While the bright-haired boss was so in-your-face she couldn't even keep her tits to herself, every spec of Snake's appearance whispered aloof and mysterious. That shadowy bandana, eyepatch, and cigarette adorning her dismissive scowl... God, half of you wanted to squee like a fanboy and the rest wanted to cream like you did to Liquid only a few hours earlier. Your daydreaming is interrupted when your walkie talkie blares with static.

_"*CRKSSHH* - IN THE - *CRKKSSHH* - OWFIELD!"_

_**"!"** _


	3. Snowfield

You and your men rush outside to the snowfield, adrenaline distracting you all from the cold, and a sickening snap comes from around the corner. The five of you round it and there she is, right as a limp corpse slips out of her hands and slumps to plain of snow laying under everyone's feet. Snake takes another huff from her cigarette, completely unconcerned at the fact five machine guns are about to light her up. Your hands shake as you ready to mow Snake down, but out of nowhere, she pulls out a massive bazooka and gets in a crouching pose, ducking past the barrage of bullets released by the firing squad you're apart of. Your eyes go wide as a missile soars and whips through the air and past the bullets and snowflakes, and you're thrown across the field by the ensuing explosion. Ears blown out and senses blurred, you drunkenly stumble about the blazing chaos unfolding around you, a black figure snaking around the fire to down your similarly dazed teammates with a series of kicks and chokeslams. Your FAMAS long lost in the storm, you unsheathe your knife right as the figure comes sprinting towards you at lightning speeds. It zips behind you and, your soldier instincts finally kicking in, you swing accordingly and slash down at Snake to keep her off of you. However, the tip of the blade gets caught on the top of her combat vest and you manage to rip the thing clean down the middle, making her ragged top slip off and leaving her torso completely exposed like an unwrapped Christmas present. You're hypnotized by her familiar plump breasts and rock hard abs, just like her sister's, not even registering the fact you managed to land a hit on Solid fucking Snake. Two arms protectively shield her cleavage from your eyes so they can break free from the trance and float up to Snake's face. Oh shit. Her normally stoic expression is now one of surprise and confusion, then twists into one of sheer flustered hatred with hints of embarrassment thanks to the blood red blush burning through her pale skin. 

_"You idiot!"_ she yells before four knuckles are flung into your face. 

A seething pain radiates off your head as you squirm in the snow. She mounts on top of you and starts tearing into you, pummeling your face in with a series of sloppy, passion-fueled hooks.

_"You fucking pig, I should've slit your throat when I had the chance!"_ you hear as the beatdown pounds you closer and closer into unconsciousness with each punch. 

_"I'm sorry,"_ you manage to choke out between one of the hits with blood pouring out of all of your facial orifices. 

She finally relents as if having a moment of clarity as she batters you to a pulp, and sighs, dragging a giant cloud of fog from her mouth. Knuckles stained in your blood and still on top of you, she takes a few more tokes from her cigarette to calm down. With the pain slowly vanishing from your body, you realize a completely topless Solid Snake is resting her ass on your crotch. Your toughening cock pokes in between her cheeks, and she notices, shooting you a bitter scowl and a disgusted scoff. 

_"I thought you Genome Soldiers were brainwashed into asexuals or something," she remarks, returning to her monotone._

_"...I-I'm not a real Genome Soldier...I'm just a replacement."_

_"I could've guessed that. Don't get me wrong, you're all trash, but you're a special kind of trash. You did land one fuck of a hit though,"_ she sullenly barks as she punches a millimeter away from your face, planting her fist in the snow. 

_"B-B-Beginner's luck?"_

_"That's the only thing I could think of. It sure as hell wasn't natural. You've got rookie's eyes, you're no soldier," she says as she hangs over your face, which dangles her dog tags right above your nose, and stares her cold blue eye into yours. A mischievous smirk slices into her face as she hones in on the sheer fear in your pupils. "I've really got you shaking in your boots, don't I?"_

_"...Y-Yes, ma'am..."_

She chuckles. _"I'm not gonna kill you. You're just a kid."_

The reassurance puts you at ease, letting the terror drain from your body. You finally garner enough courage to say _"You're Solid Snake."_

_"My reputation precedes me."_

_"I...when I was a child, I couldn't stop thinking about you. Every day and night I'd think of Operation Intrude and how much of a hero you were."_

_"That was a long time ago. And I'm no hero, just a soldier. There's nothing heroic about killing people for a living."_

_"But you stopped Big Boss from becoming a superpower, twice!"_

_"Because it was my mission. Nothing more."_

_"Well, I think you're a hero, ma'am..."_

_"Do you truly believe that?"_

_"Yes."_

She lets out another tiny laugh and rips your ski-mask off, hanging her lips right above yours as she whispers _"You've got a lot to learn, kid,"_ before her tongue fastens onto yours. 


	4. The Legendary Solid Snake

Your entire body sinks into a world of surrealism. It feels like everything in your life has led up to this one moment. This all feels like a wet dream you'd have as a pre-teen, but it's real. Solid Snake, the woman whose legacy convinced you to dedicate your life to serving your country when you were seven, is now laying on top of you, half-naked and having her way with you. A web of spit and blood stains your lower face and ties your tongues together as you french. Snapping the string of saliva by slowly reeling herself back out of your mouth, she gets to her feet, pulls off your boots, and strips her bottom to match her top, slipping her black cargo pants and panties off down her legs. As she stands above you, you feel her wetness dripping down onto the top of your feet, before she gets on her knees and returns to pinning you to the snow. She fits the soggy, damp pair of panties upside down over your head as a makeshift blinder and gag. All you can see is blackness as the tangy taste of pussy juice soaks into your mouth. You feel your pants getting unzipped and your throbbing cock popping out of your trousers to be exposed to the elements, only to immediately get snuggled in between the wet, tight insides of Snake's pussy. She plants her palms on your chest, rips the upper part of your fatigues to shreds just as you did to her earlier, and squeezes your nipples as her hips rhythmically spring up and down on your dick like a pump, incapacitating you with bliss tickling you from the bottom of your neck to the tips of your toes. Your whimpers and pants of her codename are masked by the sopping underwear imprisoning your head like a muzzle. Her movements get more and more violent with each bounce and the panties shift to the side a bit for a few seconds so one of your eyes get a peek out from the blindfold, allowing you to behold Snake as she makes you her bitch. 

Her face is as always detached but her faint blush gives her a permanent look of lovesickness. Her perfectly shaped and sized tits are like works of art as they flop up and down with every bounce alongside her dog tags jangling like keys in front a baby's face or Christmas bells, and sweat trickles down her abs even with the bitter cold snapping at her nerves. The sheer raw pleasure keeps intensifying more and more, until finally your consciousness ascends to another plain of existence entirely. A subspace, a dimension that feels like you're flying and floating through the deepest parts of a sea of endorphins and adrenaline, submerging your mind in an otherworldly high no drug could ever possibly unlock. The pleasure is so divine it's jaded you. This moment is the peak of your life. Never again will your body and mind reach this epitome of existence again, so you better savor it for every second it's worth. Despite the fact you had already came like a horse not too long earlier, the climax unleashed by the hands of Snake is twice as big, making buckets of cum boil out from between the two locked crotches like a witch's cauldron and form a pool under your ass to blend into the snow. To contrast with you gasping for air and sweating bullets as if you just got done exercising, Snake is absolutely silent, breathing perfectly regulated and only a few drops of sweat escaping her pores. She shoots you a foxy glare with her one eye before hopping off of you and lighting another smoke. With her back facing you, she stands strong and tall as you continue to squirm in the snow and in the heavenly afterglow of subspace. Her bandana cinematically whips in the wind like a flag over the line of smoke and fog escaping her lips, giving you a perfect view of her entire bare back and those taut, viscous pair of butt-cheeks your dick was sandwiched in between a few seconds earlier. 

_"That reinforced my theory,"_ she sighs between smokes. _"You're no fighter, kid, you're a lover. War is a cruel place that needs cruel people like me. Society is a beautiful place that needs beautiful people like you." She turns around and grabs you by the collar so you're face to face. "Promise me you'll leave this place and never look back."_

_"...I promise."_

She drops you back to the ground and takes one last puff of her cancer stick before dropping it to the snow. However, instead of stomping on it, she again stomps on your dick, instantly replacing the sublime pleasure with a hellish pain multiplied by tenfold thanks to the fact your cock is exposed and incredibly tender from the orgasm. She gives a final twist of her ankle to climax the absolute amount of pain your body could ever register, leaving you in helpless, excruciating agony as she walks away.

 _"That's for ruining the suit,"_ you can barely understand under all of the infernal torture while she slings her pants over her shoulder.

 _"Wait!"_ you choke out, too paralyzed to follow. _"What's your name?!"_

She pauses. _"Danielle."_

And with that, you succumb to the awful cold, awful pain, and awful fatigue. This time, you awake just outside the patient room, on a legless stretcher alongside your injured peers. 

_"Rise and shine, (Y/N),"_ your CO greets as she leans against the wall. _"Hospitalized two times in one day, huh? Don't beat yourself up over it, we are dealing with a pro. And she already beat you up over it. Sorry you don't have the luxury of a bed this time, the whole damn medical wing is occupied by the other poor saps the intruder plowed over. You've got the injury list of a test dummy at this point. Usually you'd be shipped out against your will, but thanks to emergency protocol, you have a choice. What do you say, (Y/N)? Get shipped back home or stay here and help us get rid of the pest that put a bullet in your gut, bashed your face to a pulp, and squashed your balls like a couple of ants?"_

Any other day, you'd stay. You wouldn't let any injury keep you from fulfilling your childhood dream of military service, plus you're finally facing that action you've been looking forward to since you were a kid. But you promised. You promised Danielle to escape the horrors of war before you get too deep like her. And so, you choose to depart with the most elegant wording you can muster.

_"Fuck Shadow Moses and fuck the Genome Army, get me out of this shithole, please."_  



End file.
